The Avengers: Loki fanfic
by musicluver31323
Summary: After the attack on earth, Thor and Loki return to Asgard, where Odin must decide what to do with his 'son'. The final decision is that Loki must learn his lesson much like Thor learned his, on earth with the mortals. There he meets Britt, a twenty-nine year old who recently joined S.H.I.E.L.D.


**BRITT**

I must say, I was reluctant to join SHIELD. I've never been one to believe in alien involvement and all that, but here I am, at a company (if you can call it that) that deals solely with…foreign relations. (And when I say 'foreign', I don't mean France or Indonesia).

Today is my first day on the job, and to say that it's a tad overwhelming is a bit of an understatement, to say the least. A woman with dark brown hair shows me around the facility (at least, the areas not restricted to people of my level) and tells me various tidbits of useful information. My racing mind distracts me from hearing most of what is being said, and I can't help but feel slightly lost.

"This is where I leave you. Brandon-er, your brother, worked here." For a second, the woman gives me a hint of a sad smile. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Forcing a smile, I try to push the tears back. "Thank you. Er…if you don't mind me asking, what exactly is my job?"

The smile is gone, and the woman is all business once again. "You'll pick up where your brother left off: researching the history of those from other worlds."

"History?" I ask, confused. "I hardly think one can find such information in textbooks or historical documents."

A young man with wheat-colored hair who looks to be near thirty speaks up. "Of course not." He gestures to what I assumed to be pamphlets upon first entering the room. "_This_ is your history."

Dark-haired lady looks like she is trying not to smile (I get the feeling Fury is not a fan of 'all smiles all the time') and pats me on the back. "Study hard and good luck."

After she leaves, I look closer at the pamphlets and blink. _They can't be serious_, I think to myself.

"Trouble?" The man who spoke up earlier appears at my side. I look up into his eyes and notice they resemble the color of denim. "Er…well, it's just that…these are…well…"

"Comics?" He grins, revealing a set of dimples. "But of course." At my raised brow, he explains. "They're more than just stories twelve-year old boys read for fun. Hidden in these pages is a coded message, and it's our job to decipher that message. We study everything, from behavioral patterns to possible villains behind the evil present in our world today."

I blink. I always knew my brother was a dork, but I never knew he was crazy. _These people are nuts if they think reading some silly little comic book is going to save the world._

Finally, I ask the question that has been burning a hole on my mind since the moment I stepped through the door of the building. "Why am I here?"

"No one knew comics better than your brother." He holds out a hand. "I'm Rory, by the way."

I shake hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm Britt."

"I know." He grins. "Your brother told us all about you."

"Oh." I nod my head. "Right. Er…he never mentioned you."

"Well, that's to be expected. We're not allowed to talk about our business outside of work."

This comment brings back to memory the way Brandon always dodged questions about work. After joining SHIELD, he was always very secretive. I always missed the relationship we had as children, where we told each other everything. Another reason to resent SHIELD.

Rory gets back to 'working' (who knew reading comic books would ever turn out to be working?) leaving me alone to 'study'. I grab a comic book and open it, hoping to find some sort of useful information. However, the more I read, the more confused I become. Who on earth (if you'll pardon the phrase) read a comic book and thought, "Hey, this totally is nonfiction I think I'll start a business and protect the worlds from 'alien' invasions!" Personally, I find it all rather ridiculous.

First book finished, I toss it to the side, disappointed that there was nothing that would be considered helpful. Ditto for the third, fourth, and fifth. Bored, I decide to rekindle conversation.

"Rory…um, do you know what happened? To Brandon, I mean."

Rory freezes. "Didn't they tell you?"

"I didn't trust Fury's word as far as I could throw him. And there's a reason I never got involved in sports."

He hesitates. "I really shouldn't say."

"Please?" Taking a deep breath, I try again. "If you lost someone you loved, wouldn't you want to know the truth? Wouldn't you want to know-"

"Your brother died in an alien invasion in New York."

"What really hap-wait, what? You mean that story that was all over the news when all the big metal monster things-" At my description of the creatures (is it really my fault for not knowing their names?) Rory frowns, "came down and started killing people?"

Though he looks like he would like to comment on my 'metal monster things' description, Rory nods and continues. "They say that Loki, brother of Thor, is responsible, but no one has been able to get their hands on him, since Thor took him back to Asgard."

My knees weaken and the room starts to spin. I am vaguely aware of Rory talking in the background, but it sounds far away and I can't make it out.

My brother didn't die in some freak accident. He died because of stories. Stories I always thought to be for children. He died because his work was what I considered child's play. My mind spins, unsure of what to make of it all. However, one thing is certain: no matter what it takes, I tell myself, I _will_ avenge my brother's death. Or I will die trying.

**LOKI**

I listen to another lecture from 'father' in the Throne Room. Why should I bother paying attention? We're not even related, his advice is meaningless. Thor, my idiot brother (by adoption only; I always knew there was something separating me from the stupidity that lies with hot-shot lightning master) stands at the back of the room, also listening to our 'discussion'.

"My own son, causing chaos down on the planet we are responsible for protecting!"

"If you don't mind me interrupting, I might add that I'm not actually your son."

Odin looks me in the face, holding my gaze. Even I cannot look away, and the moment is becoming much too awkward for my taste. "Listen to me, and listen close," he says. "Whether be you related by blood or not, I still consider you my son."

"And I, my brother," Thor adds, then shuts up at Odin's stern look.

Odin paces back and forth, looking as though he has a headache (I think its name is Loki…though I could be wrong; I know I've had many Thor headaches come on at random moments, personally…) and shaking his head.

"What will it take for you to learn peace? What must I do to rid you of the bitterness and hate so deeply hidden inside of you?"

I stand silent, unsure of what I should say. Ah, hate. It has become my friend and companion, and bitterness, its offspring.

"This cannot go on, I will not allow it!" Odin roars.

"If I may add one thing, father," Thor butts in. I barely suppress an eye roll. The golden child has something to say, what a complete surprise. "I was sent to earth to learn life's valuable lesson-"

"Yes, and then you found true love, the end." Like I haven't had to sit in misery while he told the story about a hundred-no, a million times.

"Actually, your brother-"

"Adopted."

Odin ignores me. "Your brother has a point. It took him lowering himself to the level of mortals to learn his lesson. Perhaps you must go through the same."

I stare, stunned. "You're not seriously going to make me live on earth?"

He continues as if I had never spoken. "You must first be stripped of all power-that is, I must take your scepter-before entering the portal."

"Oh, please no. Don't put me down there with _them_."

"You may find humans are not so terrible as you believe them to be. I would much rather have them your company than the darkness you keep inside."

I stand in silence, dreading what is to come. _Things cannot possibly get any worse._

"Thor was given his Hammer as payment for his lesson. I think best for you should be your scepter, seeing how attached you are to it."

We stand at the edge of Asgard, where I will be sent to live among mere mortals for who knows how long?

"Only when you have learned will you be able to access your scepter." Odin drops my power into the dark, sending it somewhere unknown near my new home. He turns to face me. "And now, it is your turn." He looks at Thor, who comes and stands at my side.

"Farewell, brother. I hope this makes you into the god you once were." Despite my resistance, he hugs me. _Really, must we be so warm and friendly? We are enemies! I want nothing affiliating us together!_

Once we've said our teary goodbyes (need I say that was sarcasm?) Odin nods, and I am sent falling down to earth. The planet that will surely be the end of me.

**BRITT**

I unlock the door to my apartment, exhausted and never so sick of comic books. Eight hours sitting at a desk doesn't hold a candle to this job. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd rather be shoveling elephant dung than continue working at SHIELD. Well, that is, if it weren't for the fact that it is my one shot at avenging my brother's death.

The clock in the kitchen says it's a little after seven o'clock, and, being much too lazy to actually prepare anything to eat, I call and order a pizza.

And then I wait. Bored, I pinch the bridge of my nose and drum my fingernails on my table, all out of patience for the day (an entire day of doing nothing but search for 'hidden meanings' from a stupid comic book-like I was going to find anything-will do that to a person).

After what seems like an eternity, pizza arrives, and I dig in. I immediately regret asking for sardines. I hate fish; sardines were always Brandon's favorite.

Tears well up in my eyes at the sudden thought of my brother. _Stop it, Britt. You are a grown woman. You're a big girl, now. Big girls don't cry. _With a renewed strength, I push aside any depressing thoughts and pick the sardines off of an otherwise good pizza and continue to eat. Alone.

The minutes tick by in silence. _Maybe I should get a puppy. Certainly won't have to put up with the quiet anymore. Won't get any sleep either, I reckon._

After dinner, my mind turns to autopilot as I go through the motions of another ordinary evening. _Take a shower, change into PJs, climb into bed, contemplate life._

Just once, I wish something extraordinary would happen. Something new, something exciting. Sighing, I roll my eyes and turn on my side. _Yeah, _that'll _happen._

The next morning I wake up to a knock on the door. Grumbling, I pull on a robe and assess my appearance. I have _such_ lovely bed head, and I'm sporting one of those lovely blanket-wrinkle-tattoos on the side of my face. _Special._

With more grumbling, I stumble to the door and peek out the peek hole, hoping it's not one of those annoying Jehovah's Witnesses. Even they have to understand that there's such a thing as _too early._

"What the-?" A man with dark, shoulder-length hair and an outfit that looks like something Lady Gaga would wear to an Awards Ceremony stands there, looking impatient. He knocks again, rather loudly.

"Give me a moment!" I yell, running back and pulling on a t-shirt and wrinkly pair of jeans. On the way back to the door, I attempt to finger-comb my hair, knowing it's pointless and wondering why I bother. My hair rather resembles a bird's nest and seems to have a mind of its own.

Knowing this is as good as it's going to get in the time given, I go back and crack the door open. "Yes?" How do I know he's not a serial killer, come here to rid this earth of my filth?

"Where am I?" he demands.

I blink. "Er…excuse me?"

"What city is this? Where have I landed?"

_Landed?_ Okay, this guy's more loony than my new co-workers.

"Uh. I'm not supposed to speak to strangers," I say like I'm five. _And, buddy, you are strange._

He scowls. "Let me in."

He tries to charge inside, but I hold out my arm to block him. "Who are you?"

"One who does not like to be kept waiting, now let me _in._"

_Yeesh, ain't that the truth._

"No, really, it's a fair question. I mean, you're a strange man on my door step at-" I glance at the clock, "five o'clock in the morning. Why should I let you in?"

"I'm-" he hesitates, giving me reason to believe I was right in questioning him. "No one of importance."

Curiously, I look him up and down. "Er, you're aware Halloween is still five months away, right?"

He rolls his eyes and mutter something that sounds like "humans" under his breath.

"Sorry, what?"

"You humans are all morons."

I blink. "Sir, I regret to inform you, but-"

"Oh, don't even. You think I'm human, but really, I am above you."

Certain I'm dealing with a certified lunatic, I try to think of the name of the nearest mental hospital. "Well, if you won't tell me your name, I guess I'll have to guess." _Smith Mental Hospital._ "Is it…Smith?" _Hint, hint._

He looks at me like _I'm_ the one with sanity issues. _Puh-lease._ "Smith? What sort of a name is that? 'Smith'?" More muttering.

"Jones?" More muttering. "Okay, if it's not Smith and it's not Jones, then what is it?"

I was ready for anything he could possibly say. Or, so I thought. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I feel sick; you could have knocked me down with a feather at his answer.

"My name is Loki, the god of Mischief; I come from Asgard."

**LOKI**

The girl with the crazy brown hair-as I have decided to call her-gives me a look of disbelief (really, are humans so ignorant as to believe we don't exist?) and then looks like she wants to strangle me.

"You're messing with me."

"Um, no, I'm not, _human_. Now LET ME IN."

"You!" She hisses. "Monster! Murderer!"

I roll my eyes. "If you're referring to the incident last month, I-"

"How could you?!" She looks like she wants to cry. _Oh please no. No crying; anything but that._

"I'm…not sure I know what you-"

"Of course you don't." Her voice breaks. Then, she changes. She stands up straight and looks me in the eye. I must admit, she is making the moment very uncomfortable, not breaking eye contact.

"Prove it," she says evenly.

"Sorry?"

"Prove that you're Loki."

"After the way you just reacted, I'm not sure I want to."

"Prove. It."

I know I should walk away and find another residence to harass. But something about the challenge in her voice lures me in. Thinking, I try to come up with something to convince her of the truth; I come up blank.

"I rather think I'm hungry. Have you anything to eat?"

She blinks at the topic change. "Er…yeah, I guess, but-"

"If you would be so kind as to provide me with nourishment, I will prove to you that I am in fact the god of Mischief."

She hesitates, but I know I've got her. True to her human nature, the curious side takes over and she opens the door to let me in.

"You should know," she says when I sit down at a small kitchen table. "The police station is just a few blocks down. And the neighbors upstairs won't hesitate to call them if I scream. Which I will, if you try anything."

I smile. "You don't have to worry. Other than food-which I see you have managed to forget about already (typically human of you)-I want nothing from you at the moment."

Though she doesn't look as though she believes me, she starts rummaging around in her white box filled with food and pulls out a box of eggs and a loaf of bread.

"Do you have any bacon?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, but they'll have to defrost and we don't have time for that."

Oh. "Right."

I watch as she busies herself, fixing breakfast. "How many eggs?"

"Six."

"Six?"

"Yes."

"Uh. Okay." She puts two pieces of toast in the silver metal box (a toaster, I believe they call it?) and starts to fry six eggs.

"So. Um, you said you would prove that you're…uh…Loki?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Be patient and let me think a bit!"

She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath.

"The Tesseract."

She freezes. "What?"

"The Tesseract. How I got to earth last time."

"Do you work at SHIELD?"

I tense at the mention of it. "No. I despise them."

"How did you know about-"

"I told you, I am Loki."

She stands there in silence for a full minute before the toast pops up, making her jump. She once again continues her duty of making me breakfast, buttering the toast and flipping the eggs over.

Two minutes later, she slides a large plate with six eggs and two pieces of toast across the table, where I am sitting.

"So." She sits down-at the opposite end from me, I note-and appears to be shaking. "You really are Loki, then?"

"Mm. What I said."

"What are you doing here?"

I hesitate. I really don't need some incompetent human grilling me on why I'm here, but then, she did give me food. "Odin sent me. I've nothing. He took my scepter."

"You're not planning another attack? Can't control my heart, or anything like that?" There's a hint of sarcasm in her voice that I don't appreciate.

"No." I take a bite of egg.

"Oh, good. Then I can do this." To my shock, she gets up, walks over to me, and slaps me smartly across the face.

I stand up, reaching up to touch my cheek, which is now rather warm. I let loose a four-letter word.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go get ready for work." She turns to leave.

"Do you mind if I stay?"

She stops and turns around. The look on her face is one of astonishment. "What?"

"It's just…well…I've nowhere to go, you see…"

"Oh well that's a shame. Good luck with that."

"Please!" I close my eyes and clench my fists. "Just for today."

She considers this. "Well…I suppose…but just for today. It's not my fault no one wants you around." She runs her fingers through her matted hair. "Stay out of the bathroom." And with that, she disappears into the other room. As if she trusts me in here, alone. I laugh. Foolish, foolish girl…

Two hours later, she emerges, hair brushed, clean clothes, and wearing a hint of makeup, I notice. About an hour ago, I could hear her singing in the shower at the top of her lungs like she was some sort of star. Really, she has a beautiful voice. Not at all what I would expect from her.

"Right then. I've got to head out. Now's the time where you find somewhere to go for the day."

"Can't I stay here?" She looks at me like I'm insane. "Right. Well, any suggestions?"

"There's an ice skating rink. You'll need money, though."

"That won't work, then."

"Well…I don't know, find something yourself." She shoos me out the door and locks us out. "Oh, and one bit of advice…"

"Yes?"

"Ditch the outfit."


End file.
